


Cycle Sixty-Six

by iox



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eldritch, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Monsters, Multi, Suspense, but everyone has their part to play, ill edit the tags once I know what the hell I'm writing., its not an au just my attempt at a cycle, lots of starblaster dynamic introspection too, over half a century together makes things wierd and interesting, some ocs but theyre not important. this is IPRE centric, thisll be pretty focused on the twins once i get into it.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iox/pseuds/iox
Summary: The IPRE family of five lands in their sixty-sixth cycle. This planet is battling against a forest and horrific creatures called the Fae. Something is very, very wrong.





	1. Corruption of Books

"Hey, are we missing something?" Barry looked up to Magnus opposite him, a crease between his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what it was that caused such a feeling of alarm at its absence. Like leaving the door open when on holiday, or falling asleep on the bus and missing your stop. Where something was drastically Not Right. But he couldn't pin it down, and it unsettled his stomach so he just swirled the hot liquid in front of him. Magnus was staring out into the distance of space in a morning daze, but then turned towards him and hummed thoughtfully. Then he shrugged.  
"Nothin’ that I can think of. We did just basically skip out on a year though. Something to do with that?" Barry made a short tone of dissatisfaction at that explanation, but maybe that's what it was. 

They both sipped at their coffee, admiring the approaching planet. White streaks and swirls decorated a teal and chartreuse planet. It was no beach year, and Davenport expected the weather conditions to be fairly chaotic and stormy - but it seemed otherwise habitable with a few signs of life. The sun created a hauntingly beautiful halo around it, almost blinding despite the dark tinted windows made specifically for this situation. It was morning in the sense that all of them would wake roughly about this time and it was then programmed so in the ship for brightening lights and dull windows. Having such a short and eventful time last cycle, Barry honoured the sluggish start to the new year, as they headed towards the planet, observing it and the skies for the light before they really got down to business. 

Eventually he went back to the bedrooms to check on Lucretia, who would normally be up before anyone and have prepared a simple breakfast for the three early risers; after being greeted with a hoarse 'g'morning' after he knocked on her door, he was glad to have the foresight to have brought along a cup of tea. She hadn't slept much, that was obvious. She was hunched over her desk, piles of her journals around her. Barry wouldn't tell a soul, but this new Lucretia, hardened by her year alone, unnerved him slightly - he would get over it, but just the way her shoulders jutted and her jaw tightened suddenly changed the usual soothing presence of the gentle bookworm he knew so well into a figure that was strong, steel, almost cold. He loved her still, dearly, and he had a lot of sympathy for the hardship she went through alone that made his stomach ache in sorrow - but _still_. It was like water becoming rock. She felt almost like an entirely different person than the curious student who stayed up late to record his experiments, than the close friend who he played chess in a doorway of a crew member's room for one reason or another, than the sister who he shared a hot chocolate with when they didn't have enough of a cycle's bottle cap currency for two. He shook the thoughts out of his head.

Oddly, Lucretia was cycling through her notes, fast. She picked up one from the pile on her right, flipped through its pages while scanning it with experienced eyes, and put it down five seconds later on one of many piles on the left and scribbled something on a new pad in front of her; before then picking up another book and starting the process all over again. Barry, placing down her tea on the last patch of bare wood and receiving a murmur of gratitude, watched her at it for a few moments. He still knew her well, and a few minutes later she put the pen and books down, leaned back in her chair and took a long sip of the hot beverage. Barry put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed his thumb in circles, knowing she would understand what he meant. Sixty-something years would do that to someone. 

His lips curled down at the sides at the way she leaned into his hand. Still touch starved from her isolated year with only an alien jellyfish to keep her company.

"Something's wrong," she started, solemnly, "I can't - all my notes - they're hard to read. Some more so than others." She leaned out of his grasp then handed him an old book, well kept but with mottled yellow pages. It was titled with a distinctive date from their homeworld - despite being so long ago, Barry remembered the excitement of being invited to the prospective starblaster applicants gathering on that date very well; it was where it hit him that he now had a distinct potential of being chosen for planar travel. Before he could flick through it, she picked up another book from a smaller pile and put it on top. This one was very new, labelled _Cycle 65 Version Three_.

"Sixty-six years - from the year before the hunger to last cycle - all of them between those dates, they're suddenly varying levels of, of, unreadable." Her eyebrows were heavy and her mouth tense, and he understood why when after he opened Cycle 65 and slowly glanced over the pages: then promptly threw them to the floor and jumped backwards, his heart in his throat.

"What the fuck?" Barry gasped, hand on his chest.

"Yes," she said unhappily. "What did it- what was it like for you?"

He took a few moments to catch his breath. "I can't even- And all of them are like that? And you've been reading them all?" he put a hand to his head and walked over to Lucretia's bed to sit down heavily. "I mean, it. It was like, like. How the fuck do you describe that?" She brought her hands grasped to her lap, and she had swivelled around to face her crewmate.

"For me," she began, then paused for a few seconds, "it was as if, something was looking at me. Very, very invasively; nothing was hidden, it knew everything. As if I had opened the book, and found upon reading, found something staring at me from the edge of my sight, waiting for me to notice. That, that _something_ would happen if I did. And the fear, the shock - I couldn't concentrate on the words to remember them." she, worried yet still serene, inspected Barry's face. "Anything like that for you?"

"Yeah I- I guess. Like something had just, breathed on my neck - I don't - We need to tell Davenport. Is it a curse, I just, don't understand?" Lucretia rolled her chair back around to her desk, looking at the notes she had made while reading the books. No wonder she couldn't sleep if she was willingly subjecting herself to that.

"Yes, I will. We will. I've just been making notes such as, the fear, it's all gone now, right? Takes a while to calm down, after the first time, but then the quicker you look and leave it, the easier it is. And, no, it's unlikely to be a curse - for one, we are in space, and two, we are the only spellcasters onboard that could attempt this; and I don't know about you, but I have no idea how I would go about something so intricate and, well, frankly horrifying."

Barry laughed anxiously. "So, you'll probably want my help on those notes then, huh?" she glanced at him through her reading glasses, and her concern had a fierce protective edge on it - another thing new on this Lucretia.

"Only if it's not too much, Barry-"

"No no, yeah don't worry I mean, Scientific curiosity and all that. I got it. You said it got easier? So, I'll start as soon as we, see Davenport...?" he trailed off and glanced meaningfully at her notes. He might not be lying about being curious, but he wasn't an idiot - it would be best to get a second opinion on this, as well as get an authoritative decision. As much as that authority had lost its edge slightly over the years, as they became family before crew, it was still important. He thought about that slightly.

"We shouldn't leave Magnus and Merle out of it, either, so I'll go get them. Impromptu team meeting." He saw Lucretia open her mouth, as if to protest, but then hesitated, smiled, and nodded instead, turning to gather a few books. Barry ignored the books sprawled in the middle of Lucretia's tidy room, and rushed out, as calmly as he could manage.

 

Davenport reacted like he'd been shot, a sharp grunt, a step backwards, and an emotional whip of his tail, but he didn't drop the book. Magnus jerked his head upwards then looked like he was trying not to cry. Merle refused to look at the notes at all after seeing Davenport's and Magnus' response, saying he 'got the gist'. 

"W-Well? Any, theories, you two?" Davenport questioned haltingly, sitting on the dining table for height, feet resting on one of the five chairs. A few meters away, at the window, were two more chairs looking outwards where Barry and Magnus had sat. In fact, Magnus had resumed sitting in the place he had before, hiding his sniffles as he looked outwards. From Barry's perspective, their new planet took up three-quarters of the window, speckled blackness covering the rest. From the tinted window, blue light filled the room.

"Well, we thought it was unlikely to be a curse because of the obvious reasons of who, and where," Lucretia started, bringing out the notebook she had dedicated to this situation. Using a pen she tapped at something she wrote, "as far as I can tell, it has to be something that has happened to us within the last week - unlikely - or something about the plane which has altered our knowledge. What is it hiding? I can't identify what could have gone missing memory-wise that would mean this reading prevention would have to happen to prevent redundancy, but there aren't any obvious gaps but- perhaps we aren't missing anything, but there's something that mustn't be written down? Perhaps it's something to do with the celestials on this plane, with some information being forbidden, and to communicate it brings punishment?" She was biting the cap of the pen now, writing on par to frantically with squinting eyes to capture her thoughts, and it was such a Lucretia thing to do, Barry relaxed. Things just seemed a little bit more normal. But he still jumped at Merle's clap, forgetting about him standing behind his chair.

"Hey, that's something _I_ can do. I'll ask Pan about this stuff. See if it's a god thing."

"You do that, Merle," Davenport nodded at him, then turned to Barry. "Do y-you have any ideas of what this could be, Barry?"

Barry rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "Well, uh, I only learnt about this a few hours ago but. Maybe? No... ah yeah I don't have anything. Creesh, when was the last time you looked at those books - wait, oh - could the Hunger have done it somehow? Some sort of, corrupt us from the inside out plan?" Lucretia finally looked up and focused on him thoughtfully. She placed her notebook next to Davenport who was sitting on the other side of the table. 

"I guess, maybe? I made sure I was ready to go a whole two weeks before, so I didn't need to write anything for the record afterwards. I did some recreational writing, which hasn't been affected - but anything that holds that, fear inside, the last time I looked was perhaps a week before the hunger, until last night."

"Yes, before we go on, I-I understand, Lucretia, the last year was especially hard for you, but, but remember that we're here now, o-okay? I'd prefer to be told about these things as soon as they come to light." Chastised, Lucretia grimaced slightly, ashamed, and nodded once.

"Yeah, that was a mistake I, yes. I'll remember that."

"Good. Alright so - Barry you were saying?"

"Oh right, well I mean, I think the two most likely situations is that it's a strategy of the hunger, or there's something up with the gods - or something else in this planar system, but that's so vague it, it could be anything. But, Lucy if I could borrow one of the most affected books, I can study it. I'll start with what sort of magic it is, caster information, what it says perhaps, that sort of info."

"That sounds good. You said you had a list of the most to worse affected?" Lucretia nodded firmly, and took a guess.

"I assume you want me to find the pattern? I can do that."

"Exactly." Davenport smiled at Lucretia fondly, and Barry wondered if he too could see how much she had changed. Or maybe how much she was struggling after so many months of strife alone when they hadn't been parted in over half a century.

"There's not much else we can-" Davenport was cut off by Magnus, as he finally pitched in. He had finally managed to shake off the shudders brought on by the fear (perhaps now deserving of capitals, the Fear), and brought himself back together. He had really grown since the first few cycles, stronger emotionally and characteristically as much as everything else, but Barry would make sure to spend some time later today being affectionate, checking he was alright. The Fear seemed to have the most profound and lasting effect on him.

"When we get closer to the planet and if there's people, I can talk with them," typical Magnus, "get that old rustic hospitality going again. They'll know more about this; at least about their Gods and stuff." and he smiled slightly, determined.

"Fantastic." Davenport looked around - Merle had apparently pattered off without Barry noticing, presumably to his plant-choked room to be closer to Pan - but otherwise, Davenport made eye contact with each of the crew. Subtle emotions showed to those who had known him a long time - which was all of them at this point. Gratefulness at Barry, pride for Magnus, acknowledgement and sympathy for Lucretia.

"All we need is the five of us, you know. We make a good team, and an even greater family. Good job. To uh, c-conclude this meeting, we all know what to do now. We sort out what's happening with these books, find the light, get a little bit smarter about the Hunger. For safety reasons, Lucretia could you put your affected books in one of the storage rooms? N-not too far don't wor- uh- the one next to Barry’s room? Great. I'll go check on the Starblaster now, come get me if you need me." He directed that at everyone, before hopping off the table with excellent balance thanks to his thin tail, and walked out of the room. With that all sorted, everyone got to work. They were all very busy, and it was a long while before anyone got that _urgently missing something_ feeling again. And when anyone did, they brushed it away. It wasn’t important, compared to this.


	2. Corruption of Forests

They saw the Light of Creation, and typically, it flew right into the swirling clouds of the biggest storm on the planet. When the clouds were gone - or rather moved on upwards - it revealed a web of towns, many small ones interlocked with thick roads. An extremely large forest grew wild around it, and the buildings and roads between created a pathway from either end of the extraordinarily big forest. The starblaster cruised over this gap, a jagged scar as seen from above. Before they had flown close enough to identify the oddly spaced community as it is, the scar had been bleeding harsh black smoke at occasional points. It quickly became obvious that the people had burned their way through, but the reason there was such a booming economy, as told by their multitude of sturdy stone and metal buildings , in such a rough place was unknown. The forest was, apparently, giving as good as it got. Between the two sides of the forest, if a town wasn’t splitting it, two or three very thick roads were. Zipping over it, Magnus saw townsfolk of all sorts, from half-orc children and dwarf elders, standing side by side on the roads holding a strange tool that spit fire in large bouts. Within half an hour of eyeing the people below, Magnus swore there must have been hundreds or thousands joining the cause. They set alight fast growing pipe-like plants that took root in the grass between the roads, burned mushrooms and ivy that crept up towards them, and those facing the forest edges toasted the brightly coloured flowers and curious fruits that arched towards them. 

It was obvious; this was a war zone.

Magnus gasped when one of the forest tree branches fell on a group of people targeting a particularly intrusive and hardy flower; but they didn’t move, and as it fell it turned to ash. By that point, the Starblaster had come and gone overhead, but Magnus thought he saw them jump and give each other dusty high fives.

But it wasn’t all successes. The plants seemed to have a certain level of resistance to fire; if left unattended, the fire quickly died down, and as if pushed by the wind more branches and flowers waved their way over their smoking brethren. The mushrooms too seemed to be a problem - the spores appeared to be somehow hazardous, and people cleared out where it got too thick; but also, contradictory to the other plants, it was violently flammable and only one person was left to light it up before legging it out of the way of the ensuing fireball. But as time passed, the forest appeared to back down, and the fighters and flames got sparser.

Eventually, they touched down, right in the heart of the forest towns. It was obviously the central, most active part; they put the Starblaster in the gap between the two largest towns and their two connecting roads. It must have been the first to be cleared this morning; the earth was black underneath them, and past the cement roads the forest was still smouldering. It gave a haunted feeling of glares, of affronted hurt and bitterness and malevolence, and Magnus looked away.

It perhaps wasn’t the most secure from the people though, kind of like a sitting duck, but it appeared to be the safest place from the forest without parking outside it entirely - which would mean potentially walking weeks from the Starblaster to get to here. Of course, though, the cons included the situation unwinding in front of them; what appeared to be a few members of authority and a militia walking up, all holding variations of the fire tool Magnus had seen the civilians holding.

“Friends,” one dark brass dragonborn shouted out in a gruff accented common, “show yourselves.” She was the most finely dressed in the group, wearing a stiff shoulder piece that wrapped to her neck like a collar and shaped around her shoulders up to her clavicle and falling down her back to even further. Otherwise, she wore something similar to a suit, everything white with a pine green rim. As they had planned in the air, Magnus walked down the Starblaster ramp with Davenport, Lucretia standing guard over the door, ready for any offensive actions.

“Hello,” Davenport projected over the meters between them, “we don’t mean any harm. We’re lost travellers.” They had stopped at the bottom of the Starblaster, standing underneath its late morning shadow. At the dragonborn’s right was two humans, one that seemed especially wary and standing so close to her that they were brushing. They weren’t quite as formal - most likely they had rushed and put on a creased shirt and trousers on at the first impression. The militia was fairly informal too, in appearance they were spick and span, but the mixed unorganised heights and the way they shuffled seemed somewhat young and inexperienced. 

“You must excuse us if we seem, untrusting. We have never had such travellers as yourself before. Is it just the three of you?” Magnus would say he was pretty good at identifying good people, and by this point, he decided that this dragonborn was. She had honest eyes, as she inquired and examined them and the obviously foreign ship.

“Five. Our cleric and fighter will be staying on board for now. We, we are looking for an item which fell from the skies in the storm a few days ago.” at that, the militia and slowly increasing curious civilians on the distant roads murmured between themselves uneasily. Magnus couldn’t tell if it was the mention of the Light or the storm that caused the unhappy frowns on a few faces. “If we are unwelcome,” Davenport continued, “we’re happy to leave after we have it recovered.”

The dragonborn shook her head, startled and somewhat affronted, “No no, no, we are proudly known for our hospitality - in fact, excuse my rudeness. I’m Director Nalia Tiaphur. Perhaps we can provide you with food and beverages, and you can tell us your story? We get many people passing through with many tales, but something tells me yours is… extraordinary.” she eyes over the Starblaster once more, and smiled, sliding her fire tool onto the waist of her pants and then clapping her hands twice. Everyone suddenly relaxed, and any tension dissipated as people started drifting away, leaving Nalia, the two humans beside her, and three members of the militia standing still. Davenport turned to nod at Lucretia, who returned the nod and walked to alert Merle and Barry of their future absence. 

“I’m Captain Davenport, It’s nice to meet you. And that sounds wonderful.” 

Lucretia joined them a few minutes later and locked up the Starblaster. Introductions were made; one of the humans was the Manager of Defense, Theo Farwood, and he seemed to be more than a slightly nervous wreck. The other human was getting on in age and was the Directors Advisor, Janina Walker. The remaining three people from what appeared to be the militia were introduced as Mr Krawick, Miss Teller and Mr Foryswth, who all stayed professional with a curt head movement in acknowledgement. With the way they hovered, Magnus felt like they were more focused on protecting Janina than being there for the three of the Starblaster crew. They stayed out of his way at least, and Magnus was grateful.

They were led to a three storey community building and sat down in a small meeting room with some quickly warmed up roast and veg, squash and water in pitchers across the table. A warm fire tinted the room sepia, as the previously clear blue skies turned overcast for what was sure to be the first of many times. The room quickly turned from informal to extremely casual, and it seemed to be that the culture was just this easy going. Janina’s bodyguards stayed outside the room, so it was just the six of them around a circular table. Apparently, there were chairs for the smaller and larger races too - Davenport was more or less at the same level as everyone else and he appeared much comfortable for it, if his relaxed tail had anything to say about it.

They ate for a while before they began talking. Lucretia had wondered where they grew the food as they hadn’t seen many farms or such flying over, and they got an explanation for the situation with the linked communities. Janina breathed in deeply.

“You see, the Highway, we’re the only way to travel from the North side to the South side, and vice versa, so our trade is absolutely the best on the entire continent,” She explained with a grand gesture, with a surprisingly young and airy voice for an old lady in her late sixties, “Many people travel back and forth multiple times a year - in fact, there's a festival in a couple of weeks, where we celebrate its completion; it’s actually the hundred-and-eleventh anniversary, so it should be a big turnout. But yes; there’s a lot of profit for good food here, so many older children from farming and food-based business travel up these roads, preserving the foods with spells as they spend a month travelling to the other side. There’s been a big rise in places having a North business and a South business, and us here in the Highway are lucky to be the only way to unite them both.” She took a good gulp of her squash. Theo cut in, not too quiet but with dramatically less volume and grandeur than the advisor.  
“There’s talk of aircraft being developed in the south. But I reckon it will be a good few decades before anything like that happens.”  
“I would have said it’s impossible, until today,” Nalia added bluntly, leaning on her hand as she stared curiously at Davenport, “until I saw your ship. I can scarcely believe it still. You must tell us about it, about yourselves.” and so they explained their situation, about the Light, the Hunger, and the Cycles, and no one interrupted. The atmosphere turned sombre, and the crackling fire and darkened sky outside enhanced the atmosphere.

“That is- that is grave news indeed,” Nalia muttered, apparently not doubting them at all. During the talk, Theo had surreptitiously edged his chair closer to hers. Magnus may not be a scientist like Barry, or academic like Lucretia, but he was smart in the ways of people and he chewed his lip as he pondered what had happened to Theo to produce such anxious ticks and protective behaviours towards the Director. Or perhaps something had happened to the Director; or both of them? “We have a year, you say?” she continued, and Davenport nodded. On his left was Lucretia, naturally eating with her left hand and taking notes with her right, and she looked upwards.

“We believe the light fell a few days away in the west side of the forest. We have a year, so, at least there is that,” she stated. At her words, Janina’s face became thoughtful, but both Nalia and Theo appeared to be extremely dismayed. 

“I’m sure, you understand that,” Nalia said haltingly, “that that’s just impossible.”

“Did you even see the morning rebound?” Theo said curtly.

“You mean the fires? Yeah, we saw them.” Magnus responded, frowning at Theo. Janina took a breath which everyone was quickly learning meant that she was about to go on a spiel. 

“The rebound - I think must be the most unusual thing here, that you’ve not encountered. Have you ever heard of the Fae?” Magnus shook his head blankly, but Lucretia bit her lip so he guessed she had some idea. Janina sighed, pushing a hand through grey hair. “You must understand, since the Highway was finished, the quality of life has improved radically. Finally, there are no fights over resources, no starving children, crime is at its minimum and we are at peace. But- the Highway had consequences.” Her eyes flickered to Theo, who was looking at Nalia’s large dragonborn boots, hands held tightly in fists. Magnus felt sadly enlightened. He had seen enough deaths, he knew when someone had experienced the loss of a loved one. Both Theo and Nalia had lost someone, he assumed. “The Fae - they’ve always been extremely violent, and though we tried, simply cutting down a few trees to make a straight, small road wasn’t an option. During the night- well. A Southern town, over a century ago, sent thirty people into the forest. They were to mark all the trees to be cut, mark the ground with gravel, and create a small path which would be widened at a later date for wagons. Two months later, a small stowaway boy taken by his hopeful mother to live in the New North, did in fact find himself in the north. Alone, traumatised, orphaned, and crying about the eyes he saw in the dark. There was no way a simple road would have ever worked. Vengeful, the Southern town asked the Northern dragonborn clan that had found the boy if they were willing to aid them in their revenge against the Fae. The clan, having suffered many ghastly attacks by the Fae, agreed. And so, with fire and fire, they joined forces to split the forest in half. It was quickly known across the whole continent, and many towns sent massive reinforcements to their respective side. Everyone, at one point or another, had been affected by the creatures. They set camps at strategic points in the Highway, housing the massive amounts of people. Trade started when people needed food, clothes, entertainment. This town right here? This is was the final camp as managed by the dragonborn clan. The Town on the other side of your ship was the humans camp. A hundred and eleven so years ago, the two united forces were hacking the last stretch of woodland separating them - exactly where your ship landed, in fact.” She took a large breath, and glanced over them. Magnus did the same. 

Davenport was serious with furrowed brows, his tail curling tighter around the chair. Lucretia was writing furiously in her notebook, easily a quarter of the way through already. Left to her was Theo, still looking down, then Nalia, looking at Janina on her other side, with an unreadable neutral expression on her scaled face. As he made eye contact with Janina, who was inspecting him in turn, he reached to his right and grabbed her hand gently.  
“Thank you for telling us,” he said, and she laughed kindly.  
“I’m not finished yet, kid.” Magnus was suddenly struck with the knowledge that he was older than her, but then shook it off, along with that weird feeling that came along with it. He let go of her hand with a pat and a smile and watched her curiously.  
“The Fae,” she continued, “understand that we all sleep during the night, and so, they take advantage of that. It is strictly prohibited to be outside at dark. We let them attack - they target the weakest points. We call them the bridges; the roads that connect the towns? Our towns are hexed against all plants, but we let them focus on the bridges so we know what they’re doing. Elsewise we worry they might attempt to break the hex on the smaller towns, or worse, go back outwards and exit the forest to attack the Southern and Northern towns once more. It’s a delicate battle we upkeep. But our point is - we spend from dawn to midday holding back the forest that the Fae use to fight against us. The Rebound. And during the night - they come into our towns to haunt us, and pick off anyone they can. The day may be ours, but it’s still dangerous in the forest. And if it takes longer than a day? It might as well be impossible.” _Might as well be impossible._ Magnus felt like that was worlds apart from Nalia’s ‘just impossible’. With a glance at his crew, his family - he could tell they had picked that up too. But they left it alone, so Magnus followed along.

There was a period of silence, then Davenport hummed. “So no one dares to go out of the towns? Has anyone done any research on the Fae?” Janina laughed, and Theo and Nalia shared a glance. It didn’t seem unusual for Theo to be quiet, but Nalia seemed oddly tense for the authoritative but easy-going character she had appeared to be to Magnus earlier.

“I would be the resident expert in the Fae, here,” Janina began, but then Lucretia interrupted.

“Could I work with you, Janina? I’ve gathered my own share of questions - probably best to be asked another day - but I would also like to get a more inside view for my records. Would that be too much trouble?” The Advisor looked surprised, but quickly gained back her smile.

“I would love that so much, Lucretia. How’s tomorrow sound?”

“It sounds fantastic.”

“On the subject of tomorrow, I feel like we all need some time to think.” Nalia finally recovered her voice and a professional smile. “About accommodation, you’re welcome to stay in our guest rooms here, and we can provide lunch and tea - but if you’re going to be staying here for a year, it might be best to find a source of income. Lucretia, if you decide to stay on, I wouldn’t mind hiring you to be Janina’s assistant?” Janina nodded eagerly, crows feet deepening. “But I’ll leave that all to you. Shall we retire this depressing conversation for now?” It was now Theo’s turn to nod eagerly, the most enthusiastic motion he had done all day. Davenport agreed, and they turned to more pleasant topics, like the upcoming festival and the joys of living in the U.C. - Upper Camp - as this town was apparently called. As yet another storm rolled in and the sky darkened further, they were then hushed to the Starblaster in fear of the Fae coming early. Magnus spent the rest of the day mulling over what had happened, afterwards distracting himself with a strenuous workout, and then Magnus was given a break when Barry rescued him in the evening for a cup of coffee and the sandwiches U.C. had provided them with tonight. They were oddly unsatisfying, but as Davenport set them to hover above the clouds of the planet for the night, it ended the day well enough. They had definitely had worse first encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies about the oc focused chapter, i just needed to get The Basics down, yknow. it wont happen again for a long while hopefully. i prefer our ipre pals.  
> so uh, double chap to start us off. ive written 10k already, and ill post stuff on sundays for now. next chapter is where i attempt to be scary; at the very least, itll get more action orientated from now on. anyway i would love to hear what you think about this; your theories, questions, criticisms, what you like, etc. ill use it to improve future chapters so its a non zero sum game, guys. help us both out. check ya later


	3. Corruption of Doors

“So what went on down there?” Barry asked, lounging on Magnus’s bed. Magnus was a very affectionate person, and Barry certainly wasn’t opposed to it, so their coffee-and-sandwiches talk ended up being more of a coffee-and-sandwiches cuddle. With the thunder below making him jump every three minutes, it was just nice to have the company. He wasn’t scared but he couldn’t be faulted for being twitchy, what with spending all day with those _books_ and the storm as a cliche horror track in the background. He wondered why Cap’n’port didn’t just put them in orbit, it’s not like they didn’t have the energy to spare thanks to the bond engine.  
“Well we met up with some people, a dragonborn and human lady and guy too,” he said with his mouth full. Barry grimaced, playfully exaggerated but honestly meant, before Magnus put his hand over his mouth. “Oops, sorry. We talked about some stuff uh, like? All the towns in the forest are called the Highway-”  
“Huh” Barry cut in, “like our highway-”  
“Yeah! But like, without cars. Still wagons though, I think.” He swallowed his food and motioned with his hands as he started to describe the Fae and the fight against the forest. Barry listened intently, letting the other man’s voice wash off the lingering anxiety of his earlier work.

Barry had spent all day doing various tests on one of the most affected books; in fact, none of them could even read the titles, and Lucretia couldn’t remember what it could even be about. That made the potential of memory alteration soar, in Barry’s mind, because Lucretia was nothing if not reliably organised. It had left him more than a little disturbed, and somewhat in a constant state of fear, so he knew exactly how to cheer himself up. To anyone who didn’t know them as intrinsically as they knew everyone on the team, it would be strange that these two would be _Comfort Buddies_ , perhaps suspecting Barry to go to Lucretia and Magnus to Merle; but if anything it was the other way around. Magnus’ gentleness and bold nature drew Barry out of any slunk, and he believed their camaraderie, or that they were two fighters with a strong and apparent love for their family, was similarity enough to make him a point of comfort for the other man. And for Lucretia and Merle, Barry honestly had no idea how that worked out, but they were often found together, doing their own thing but with an air of joint serenity in otherwise stressful times.

Barry shook himself out of his mental tangent, tuning in especially when he heard the Light of Creation being mentioned.

“Nalia was really adamant we can’t get the Light though, because it’s more than a day away, and at night the Fae come out. I don’t know, I think I could take them.” Barry sniggered. 

“Aren’t Fae like? Fairies or whatever? Pretty sure the myths say they’re tiny…” his tone was taunting, hiding a smile.

“Ohhh, Fairies, I could _definitely_ take on a bunch of fairies, don’t you believe in me?” Magnus displayed his best jokingly-offended face, but as Barry burst out in high pitch laughter at the idea of Magnus trying to punch out small dots of light, Magnus started heartily laughing too. Their shoulders shook against each other as they sat side by side, shaking legs hanging off the bed.  
“Look look,” Barry quickly shuffled through his components pouch on his hip for a bit of wychwood, “ _Dancing Lights_ try an’, try and get, punch them, go go,” and he hunched forward in breathless chuckles as Magnus tried and failed - and failed exaggeratedly, - to hit them from his position on the bed. Giving up, he playfully shoved Barry.  
“H-hey! Watch- watch it, pal.” Barry caught his breath, cheeks aching. Magnus mussed up his hair and Barry reached up to push him away but-  
-The door slammed shut, with an echoing crack.

Barry all but jumped into Magnus. He hadn’t even realised he had left the door open. He could have sworn he closed it. He heard dull thunder in the resulting silence.

“Huh,” said Magnus, as he looked over to the door with a small frown, before shaking his head and smiling. He brought Barry into a semi-suffocating hug.

“Don’t worry, Barr-Barr, I’ll protect you.”

“Oh fuck off,” he said, but not unkindly. Slightly rattled, he pushed away from Magnus who let him go, but stayed close. He looked up to the crew’s Head of Security.  
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Magnus.” The man in question tilted his head bemusedly, like a six-foot puppy in a human costume. The multi-coloured lights were somehow still going, and they flooded his face in unnatural reds and blues. 

“I mean, for a few days you’ve seemed kinda off since you - kinda quiet since, the books - oh man, I’m not very good at this,” it was obvious that Barry had reminded Magnus of it again as he tensed up, became less vibrant and enthused. “Ah jeez, I just wanted to say it was nice to see you smile.” Magnus gave him a small smile. It was a nice one, but not the full one he did but a few minutes ago. 

“Thanks, Barry,” he started, but stopped as if he didn’t know what to say after that.

“Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?” Barry could see him mulling it over, before he nodded. He brought a knee up to his chest and hugged it, resting his chin on his arms

“What was it, what was it like for you?” Barry held back a wince. When Lucretia asked him that question he had still been stunned, but he had several nightmares since that day to reinforce exactly what he had experienced. He turned toward his friend, his brother, sitting cross-legged. The _dancing lights_ cut out; the room now seemed too dark with just the buzzing fluorescent tube on the ceiling, the only one that fit with the Starblaster on the last cycle that had electricity. He was once again reminded that this ship was only meant to be their home for a few months. Sixty-six years later…

“You know that jolting sort of fear when a big dog - no never mind.” - This was Magnus - “before the times you die, do you ever just, just, _forget_ that it’s not the end? And you’re being chased by something and it’s like, oh man, what if this is it.” He rubbed his hands together. That wasn’t right either.  
He thought about his nightmares. A slow breath in.  
Yeah, he could do this. “It’s like. I’m running down these corridors, but they’re so fucking small, and there aren't any lights, it’s pitch black and I’m trying to be quiet but my shoes are so fucking loud, so I’m just feeling the wall as I go and it’s as if I’m suffocating. Claustrophobic. And I can’t get out. And I read those, words, and it felt like, _that_ but worse as if. As if. Something was in there with me. And I’m walking and it’s keeping pace with me. And it’s hovering just behind me but I can’t see a thing so you tell yourself like? No, of course, nothing is behind me, it’s not possible _I’m fine,_ and you feel air on the back of your neck and you tell yourself it’s a breeze -  
It’s like that,” he finished, looking at his palms. “Guess I was more wound up about that than I thought, huh?” Nervous laughter. He didn’t look up. “How about you, big guy?”

There were a few seconds of silence. 

“I uh. For me, it was a, a lot quieter. With every word I read, everything started to sound like it was floating away, and there was a ringing sound. Real high pitched, continuous, bell. And it was this sense of, I was the only other person in the world. And I couldn’t see, or hear, or move. I didn’t have anything. I was so lost. Like I had closed my eyes and when I opened them I was all alone. That maybe I had imagined everything. And now it’s like. It’s like, if I close my eyes, I’ll go back to that place again. Forever. Eternity. In nothingness, where no one else exists. But me.” He had started getting a rough edge in his throat, indicative of him holding back tears, so Barry brought him into a hug. Barry was an awkward person, but he had known this guy for basically his whole life and knew how to help him and wasn’t that miraculous. “Thanks, Barry.”

“No problem, Magnus.” The thunder rattled them again.

They finished the sandwiches - something still _off_ about them, but Barry still couldn’t figure out what - and drank their lukewarm coffee. They shared light chatter, a few guffaws, but the solemn undertone, unusually, didn’t leave. It grew late, and Barry eventually went to retire to his own room. But as he stood outside the door, he felt like something wasn’t quite right, and he scanned the hallway.

There were six bedroom-sized rooms here. Through the corridor to the front of the ship lay the joined kitchen and dining room and stairs to the deck; to the back was the medical room and stairs down to the laboratory and multipurpose room. It was late, and the only light was above him, buzzing and flickering in the way you only notice and want to fix at night, so he couldn’t see anything through the thick darkness other than the six doors. The two rooms opposite each other nearest the front of the ship, the bow, were Lucretia’s and Davenport’s. A thin light underlined Lucretia’s door, but Davenport was most likely asleep. Next to Davenport’s door, in the middle, Barry heard movement and a click as Magnus turned his light off. Barry’s own door was opposite Magnus, next to Creesh’s - he glared at it nervously, but it too seemed fine, untouched. The other two rooms - Merle’s next to Magnus, unusually quiet for the night owl Merle, but whatever - and the storage room.

Which was ajar. 

An explanation came easily to mind; simply, someone had been in and failed to close it. The darkness he could see in the few centimetres gap felt almost solid. No one used that storage, for some reason. Though oddly, Davenport suddenly did, telling Lucretia to use it this cycle to hide her Fear-affected notes. But. Barry couldn’t remember ever using it himself. He must have, sometime? He couldn’t remember. Sixty years, he knew every inch of this boat; that he had never thought to check out this one room was unthinkable. Impossible. It was the night, he was too tired to remember, that’s all. In the morning he would tell his crew and laugh over the fact that he forgot this room. He should go into his room and sleep. It was approximately 2 am.  
He couldn’t bring himself to look away from the darkness beyond the door.

He almost expected a soft wave of air to brush his neck.

A flicker, in the blackness-  
A trick of the eye. Obviously. Barry swallowed, sweat building on his temple. He couldn’t move.

He was an adult- hell, for a human, he was basically a qualified senior, an elder, fucking old, at this point. He was literally undead. If he couldn’t sleep, then he should check it out and reassure himself.

He just couldn’t move. He felt the prick of tears in his eyes. Oh god, was he going to have a panic attack at fucking 2 am in the morning? It was like the stress of the books and his insistent fear of the dark and thunderstorms culminated in being petrified by the possibility (the impossibility) of being in danger. _Here._

He stayed there for a while, watching the open door. Something was so wrong here. At any moment, he expected movement.

It was a good, long, painful five minutes before he gathered the nerves to move forward. A hand on the wall, cool metal. Shuffled footsteps. A tentative touch on the door, a creak. Freeze. Listen.

His own heartbeat in his ears; no thunder anymore, when had that stopped? Breathing. _Breathing. Out of pace with his own._ He stopped, and a cool teardrop rolled down his cheek.

A rush of cold air, on the hot skin of his neck. He was so still, his head was so light. He couldn’t even move his eyes, still staring into the storage room. A rush of air on his neck. A rush of air on his neck. A rush of-  
Out of the edge of his eye, he saw his shadow. A singular shadow. He was. He was a Fighter. A Necromancer. No, no ghost was going to-

In a fast moment, an impulse from the drumbeat in his ears and dissociated body he no longer felt apart of, everything was so far away, he noticed, in a practised combative movement he turned around elbow first, to face an empty corridor.

He wouldn’t say he was no longer out of his mind in terror, no, his nerves were strung tighter than a hanged man, but he wasn’t frozen anymore. He whisked around to look at the storage door.

It was shut.

He sprinted into his room. He was wishing he had left the lights on, wishing he had locked it so nothing could have entered. The light turned on, the same type as Magnus’. He was prepared for something grotesque, a broken body on the carpet, bloody handprints on the mirror. He couldn’t bring his suddenly superstitious eyes to glance directly at the mirror, but nothing appeared out of place. Locking the door, he found himself quietly sobbing against it and choking on the fear he had tried to hold back. Something was so wrong, and he didn’t know what.

He didn’t turn off the lights, though it drew his eyes to every contrasting shadow, to the gap under his bed perfectly sized for ankle-grabbing hands, to the wardrobe that was shut neatly, like Pandora's box, hiding something monstrous. He tried not to think, as he didn’t bother changing and more or less jumped into bed, wrapping himself in a cocoon. Some part of him told him it was good for sleep terrors; another part of him said there was something wrong with it, something so familiar that would destroy him, and fear paralyzed him once more as he clenched his eyes shut. 

_Knock._

He was kindly reminded that there was but a wall between him and the storage room. A measly, thin, wall. If someone wanted to, they could stand on the other side of the wall and still be less than a meter away from his tense, clutched up form.

_Knock._

At this point, he acknowledged this was probably a nightmare, like the other ones he had received since glancing at those horrifying books. His thoughts briefly turned to Merle, the only one who didn’t read it. God, he was fucking lucky. This was totally a nightmare, Barry reasoned. He couldn’t get out of it due to whatever magic was in those books, but this? Not real. No one could possibly be on the ship. There was no single way someone could be on this ship. No way. No way at all. No wa-

_Knock._

It was like it was waiting for a response. Barry clutched himself tighter, a ball of nerves, an elastic band about to snap. It was a nightmare. Maybe if he played along he could control it. Maybe if he communicated with it, it would break the spell. Without opening his eyes, he lifted his trembling right arm. Centimetres from the wall, probably. Like the centimetres of the storage door when it was open. When he had imagined it open.

He prepared to rap against the wall with his knuckles.

The bed suddenly dropped out underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so its super obvious ive never tried to write anything scary in my life, yeah? so like, i know this chap fails spectacularly in that regard (i never half ass anything, even failing-) so uh, constructive criticism is nice? once/if i finish this, im gonna go over it massively and yknow, be my own beta. this fic is more of a can i do this? how do i improve? kinda thing. ill get better.  
> also _man_ is magnus hard to write. hope he's somewhat in character. some action and fluff in the next chap with lucy. then dav' makes a plan for the light, then back with barry where the fae really come into play.


	4. Corruption of Ships

For a good three seconds, Lucretia was floating.

It was a typical end to this day. Don't get her wrong, she didn't expect it, but bad days tend to end in worse nights. 

It hadn't even been so bad at first. Nalia was better than most they had encountered in terms of authority figures, and she had seen something of a kindred spirit in Janina. The meal had been decent; so better than she had eaten in literally over a year. It's not like she had the time or the daring to go to any diners or restaurants when she had been running away from the Judges. She had clenched her hand around her pen a little bit tighter at the thought, but no one had noticed. 

As the day progressed, she documented many things she knew would be important at a later date. She hadn't lied when she said she had many questions, not only about the Fear from the books and what had been said about the Fae; but also things that went unsaid, such as what was wrong with Theo and Nalia, how had they managed to keep a stalemate with a forest for a century, what did Janina know that made the upcoming forest exhibition from ‘just impossible’ to ‘next to impossible’? What gave them a chance? But nothing seemed urgent enough that it couldn’t be asked another day, and instead, she had just written down everything she was told and ate as much as she could while doing so. 

But the books kept haunting her. The notes she had written with her own hands. She hadn’t slept steadily for a good few days, but that wasn’t anything too unusual with her bordering-on-insomnia normal sleeping pattern, so she covered it up well. But with the sun hiding behind the clouds, the books wrote a tale about every shallow shadow out the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t struggling - she had built up a spine of steel and a stubbornness to succeed in her cycle alone - but that wasn’t to say she didn’t feel like she was suffering. 

So she had used her time wisely. If she wasn’t going to sleep - each blink an opportunity for a monster to appear, like some weeping angel - she would face her fears and help her team. She went through more notes, and a depression had settled upon her heavily as she huddled in her room, as if gravity had decided to take revenge against her personally. What was going on? Her efforts to decrypt the patterns had revealed very little. Worryingly, the parts most affected were based on the crew; but once again Lucretia couldn’t identify what was missing. Nothing had been amiss with any of her family, so whatever had been written out couldn’t have been too important, right?

Outside her room, something had scratched at the floor, but when a door slammed shut she assumed it had been Magnus walking by. Her headache, previously a permanent background annoyance, confronted her with force. She had rested her head on her arms against the desk and ignored the feeling that something was glaring at her from the corner. That something with white pinpricks for eyes and skeletal hands was only inches in front of her, waiting for her to look up, acknowledge it. She didn’t. She kept thinking, distracting herself.

Another major focus of hers was the amount Fear in her books on arcana and magi-technological advancements and even on the Hunger - she thought it was becoming more likely that perhaps this is a new strategy of the Hunger, a new technique picked up from a plane absorbed. It wasn’t a nice thought; something like that, Lucretia wasn’t sure it would break easy, if at all. It wasn’t confirmed to break in the next cycle, as it hopefully would if it was just an issue in this plane. She had spent a time worrying about that, longer than she wanted to admit.

She broke herself out of her spiralling emotions when she thought she had heard something in the room next to hers - Barry’s - but it was too quiet to tell.

And that is when the Starblaster started falling from the sky. 

And so she was floating, three weightless seconds, before being slammed violently to the floor. The ship whirred in a worrying pitch, and the sound jerked as the floor underneath her shook and jumped. Someone ran in the corridors, and she heard her name being yelled by Magnus. The door quaked, but any noise that would have been made by the frantic knocks was punctuated by fierce thunder which came from all around. More muffled shouts were exchanged outside her door, but then they were covered by the unmistakable cacophonous clatter of rainfall as they dipped below the cloud level. 

She unsteadily clambered to the door, unlocked and opened it to face Magnus. His right hand was covered in some black dust like charcoal up to his elbow and it rubbed onto her wrist as she was gently but insistently pulled into a hug. They were both too stunned to say anything, but after the floor once again dropped slightly beneath them, Magnus pulled back.

“Everyone else is upstairs is upstairs, I’m not sure what’s happening-” he shouted to be heard.

“Let’s go.” Lucretia nodded once before hurrying up to the deck to find Davenport, and she just about heard Magnus’ footsteps as he followed her. There was a protective shield - one she had helped develop in fact - so while the Starblaster bucking like a rodeo bull was a definite danger, the wind didn’t threaten to throw them overboard and the rain didn’t obscure her visibility. She scanned over the spaceship to find no damage. The only thing she could notice was the minuscule difference of light emitted by the bond engine, only spotted due to her sharp eye and many years of study and living on the Starblaster, and because it was currently the only source of light as they entered thick suffocating clouds. Except when lightning flashed and curved around the shield in an entrancing and evocatively beautiful display of raw power. 

On the other side of the ship, the Captain rallied with the wheel and skillfully managed the multiple flips, switches and other modules decorating the cockpit, his tail wrapped around the chair behind him for stability. He was still in pinstripe pyjamas, but that didn’t redact from the serious expression that occupied his face. Barry darted past them and downstairs with a sharp _‘On it.’_ as he rushed to do whatever Davenport had asked before they had come up.

Even as they evaluated the situation, Lucretia using Magnus’ sturdy frame and tight grip as a crutch, Davenport’s record as an excellent pilot was showcased to them as he stabilized the Starblaster. Without them having to do anything, he gradually pulled his ship back over the cloud layer. The sudden quiet was surprisingly shocking in comparison to the previous calamity. Then whatever Barry did below caused everything to quiver, before giving the gnome full control, and suddenly their flight was as graceful as ever. 

As the tension dropped, Lucretia moved towards her captain. “What the hell was that?” He glanced over to her before shifting his attention back towards some flight indicators.

“I- I have no idea.” he began. “I think the energy output from the bond engine dropped when we first entered this cycle, and w-we caught up with it just now - we're flying on reserves currently. Barry went into the lab and put her in a, in an _energy saving mode_ let’s say. I’ll land when the sun rises, but, but after that, I don’t feel comfortable flying her again until we find out what caused this.” Lucretia was getting really fed up at the mysteries gathering at every corner, but she just absentmindedly ran a dark hand through messy curls and sighed.

“We can take Nalia up on her offer. It could be worse.” Davenport sighed too, more an expulsion of tension and stress than anything else.

“Yeah, I just don’t li-”

“Hey guys, where’s Merle?” Magnus interrupted, coming back up the stairs. Lucretia took a guess that Magnus went to check on everybody when it looked like Davenport had it under control. He looked worried. The three of them shared looks between themselves. It was obvious no one had seen Merle in a while.

“Not when we got back-” 

“This morning-” Davenport and Lucretia answered simultaneously. With how Barry locks himself in the laboratory when he has something to experiment on, they knew he wouldn’t know either. 

“God. What’s going on.” Davenport questioned, rhetorically. Lucretia grimaced slightly in sympathy.

“One of us would know if he was on here so I guess, he probably went out when we were having dinner?” Magnus chewed on his lip after he said this, anxious. Thunder roared once more below them.

“ _Why._ ” Davenport exhaled, lounging on the captain's chair behind him defeatedly. No one answered him. No one knew. 

“What should we do?” Lucretia asked, aimed it at the gnome.

“We wait until sunrise, what else can we do? You saw the storm, plus there’s the issue with the forest and Fae… You guys - get some rest, if you can. It’s been a bad night.” and no one disagreed, though the idea of anyone sleeping tonight was absurd, in Lucretia’s opinion. In no time at all - in fact, she barely remembered walking over - Lucretia found herself lying back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The white paint was cracked and dirty, not all there. She presumed she was in a light form of shock, and time didn’t pace itself as it usually did. She traced her eyes over her light, still on, creating black spots when she looked away. The adrenaline racing her heart slowly calmed, and while she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes for more than a fraction of a second, the heaviness had fallen from her shoulders just slightly.

“Well. Today has been eventful,” she whispered to herself. Then someone knocked tentatively on the door. As a woman pushed to her limits, she emitted a rare and exasperated groan.

“Sorry, sorry,” Barry’s raspy voice came through, “sorry, I couldn’t - I’ll leave you to sleep, sorry Lucy-” With aching feet, she got up and crossed the room before he left, opening to a frighteningly despairing-looking Barry. He was flushed, skin pale but with red bags under his eyes. “O-oh, I- you- are you, doing alright?” She was still in her day clothes, there was probably only a couple hours before dawn, and she felt like she was about to pass out, so uh.

“What does it look like Barry.” She wished it didn’t come out of her mouth so curt. He visibly flinched. Barry was a middle-aged human, but sometimes he only seemed so much younger than that. He had always acted his age - calm, composed, tranquil - but he was so transparently shattered now, it hurt her. She stepped forward to hug him. Too tired to hold back.

“You’ve got a bruise on your cheek,” he muttered, hugging her softly in return. Magnus’ hugs were renowned for their warmth and encompassing qualities, but Barry’s were distinct in how comfortable they were. Plush and safe. She was happy to stay like this. “I was worried.” She faintly remembered banging her head during the first fall of the Starblaster. She laughed.

“My knees are worse, I believe. Not looking forward to looking at them.”

“When we find Merle, we’ll get him to heal us up.” Magnus must have told him. After a few long moments, it seemed about time to let go, but it wasn’t on Barry’s agenda and he gripped her tight, tighter.

“Uh, I don’t. Really want to be alone right now, could we-?” Lucretia knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was perfect. She slipped out of his grasp and turned back to her room, and she could almost feel his despair as she walked away, and his relief when she came back with her duvet in tow. “You should uh, get PJ’s on maybe Lucy? I’ll be, I’ll be right back.” and he twisted around to his door, leaving it open as he scuttled in.

She took his advice and shucked off her clothes, not bothering to take them off the floor. A simple cotton grey nightie was all she could be bothered with before she headed to the kitchen to find it already prepared. The table and chairs were already chucked to the side, a few of the chairs fallen down after apparently being carelessly thrown. The thickest, largest blanket was fiercely juxtaposed with the mess around it - the bumpy ride had thrown cutlery everywhere, and there was a smashed glass in the corner - but the blanket had been carefully placed flat next to the window, and lovingly decorated with pillows. Half of it had already been taken up with the snoring form of Magnus, and she smiled. She tucked herself between the man and the window. The window went from floor to ceiling, and was a few meters across; it gave the most majestic overhead view of cotton candy storm clouds and moonlight. She twisted around to put her back to it, and shuffled shyly closer to Magnus. Automatically, or maybe he wasn’t asleep, he reached out to pull her closer and she finally relaxed under his chin. Before she fell asleep, she was aware of Barry shaking her forgotten duvet over them both, then throwing his own over them too. He slipped in next to Magnus and muttered:  
“Love you,” to them both. Lucretia slept soon afterwards.

 

Though she didn’t remember it in the morning, she woke up twice. The first was to Davenport’s tail winding around her heel. The second was to a strong and sudden feeling of dissonance. Something was missing, pieces lost, making her dizzy from confusion and her stomach drop in an immense loss. Names on her tongue. They should be here. 

 

And like something was looking at her from the shadows that the moonlight couldn’t reach. 

Then she closed her eyes once more and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hope you like this chap! cuddle piles ftw, amirite? shame its missing a few important people, huh  
> the comments on my last chapter literally made me jump for joy, knowing that I creeped you out. fuck yeah. heres a challenge, do the same for this one mb? ;>


	5. Corruption of Ideas

They landed on the recently-burnt grass - and yes, that would be a problem. If the forest would overgrow this area, it could potentially harm the now grounded Starblaster; and if the Fae wandered around at night, they would need to be defended. Davenport immediately tasked Lucretia on preparing something that would help them in that regard, and with Lucretia on the ship, Magnus and Barry went off to look for Merle. Davenport himself needed to deal with the eager barn owl aarakocra that had apparently been waiting for them to land, holding a leather briefcase in one hand and waving at them in the other.

After introducing herself as Kee, it quickly became apparent the bird had flown - rather recklessly, in Davenport's opinion - throughout the stormy night. _It is my life's work,_ she had explained herself, _to create aircraft to allow the flightless majority of the population to cross the forest quickly and efficiently, day or night. The news travelled fast, of such an advanced craft zooming over the highway - will you help us?_ She had guaranteed good pay, and any information they had. This was the clincher, as with further prodding, she revealed that her business also studied the skies, the atmosphere, at all hours - and they could roughly triangulate the position of the Light of Creation.

So Davenport agreed, and found himself looking over the aircraft designs until midday, drinking coffee in a cafe as Kee spread out the papers in their briefcase over the table. They had already created a plane-like two-man ship that could fly, but it lacked the propulsion, stability or safety that would be needed to get over even a small portion of the forest. But with his engineering knowledge, Davenport was hopeful. He proposed to get two designs based off this original - one for commercial purposes that he would help with, but only if and after they completed and successfully flew one that would be small, agile and protected enough to collect the Light from the thick of the forest. Without much protest, for that would be a good advertisement and sales point for her, and already a massive jump from the technology she was developing, Kee agreed.

By the time they had finished discussing it and written up their optimistic time frame - a month to finish the blueprint, two weeks to build and test, and then if all goes well they can then collect the Light - Magnus and Barry turned up in the cafe, joking with a dishevelled yet smiling Merle. Kee excused herself with a taloned pat on the shoulder and a promise to meet up again soon, and the two humans and dwarf took seats around the table.

“I can’t believe you left without me!” Merle exclaimed with a laugh. Davenport shook his head with a wry smile.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone you were heading off the ship-”

“We didn’t even notice you were gone!” Magnus interjected loudly, punched the dwarf's shoulder playfully. Davenport waved over a tall-for-a-gnome waitress and bought his crew their desired drinks with the forward payment Kee gave him for working with her. He took note of Barry’s abnormal choice of something that probably had too much caffeine to be healthy.

“What were you even doing out there, Merle?” The human in question asked, fiddling with his glasses absentmindedly while looking curiously at the dwarf. Merle settled into his chair a bit further, positioning in himself in the relaxed way he did when he had obtained the attention of those around him.

“Well, y’know, I talked to Pan... asked him what’s up, if the gods had anything to do with the books - which is no, by the way, - if he had anything to do with the forest waging war against the townsfolk - also no.” Merle waved a hand as if disregarding the useless answers, and Davenport was suddenly struck by the familiarity of it; but not by the cleric, someone taller, slender - perhaps Lucretia? But something about it suddenly unnerved him, and he pushed the feeling away as Merle continued. “Then if I should help out, use him to bring peace. Use my clerical wizardry to soothe the war, between plant and man. Unite them in glorious-”

Davenport cleared his throat loudly.

“And he said yes.” Merle finished simply.

“So you just went? Without telling anyone you were leaving the Starblaster? That seems more up Magnus’ alley, no offence Magnus -” the human, who seemed to be distracted by a dog outside, popped up with a ‘none taken!’, “-than yours, Merle.”

“Well, I did tell Barry!” At this, Barry flushed and put his glasses back on, only to then avoid making eye contact.

“Oh, uh, I must not have heard you. Sorry, Merle.” He smiled, one-sidedly, “my research was taking up a lot of my concentration.” While nothing too unusual, Davenport put this on another mental note.

“Nerd,” Magnus turned back to the table and nudged him playfully. The focus went back to Merle as he began to talk again.

“I didn’t expect to be gone that long either - and I didn’t know there was a curfew! - I went out to inspect the woods and flowers. It got dark and rainy and well, shame to admit it, but I got lost. It was, a little bit weird, to be honest with you guys. But before it really started hammering it down a guy found me, maybe called Theo?, told me you guys had already gone back to the Starblaster and left, gave me a place to stay. Then when morning came I waited for one of you to show up.” 

“Yeah we know Theo,” Davenport murmured, “I wonder what he was out there for. D-did he give you the rundown on what’s going on?”

“With the little fairy shits? Yeah. And he uh, said he was just exploring. Dunno if that’s the truth. Seemed a little too shifty for his own good.” Magnus nodded. At that point, they were interrupted by the waitress as she carried their drinks on a black tray.

“Here you go, boys.” The gnome handed out their drinks with a swish of her tail, and as she gave out Magnus’ (an indulgent hot chocolate), the captain spotted a smudge of black on the underside of his wrist. It was similar to the dust on the fighters arm during the… _event,_ on the Starblaster, that Davenport's keen eyes had spotted as Magnus had come up to check on him, before going downstairs to check on the other crew. He had noticed it had been scrubbed off when he found and joined the impromptu family sleepover later that night. Morning. God, he was tired. He shook himself slightly.

“What’s that?” He said casually, but with a concentration on the dark streak. Unusually, there was a spark of anxiety in the human’s eyes at his words, and a hand quickly went to brush it off, and it fell away easily. It was funny how in sixty-six years of living together, Magnus was still truly terrible at lying to them; so much so that Davenport knew he was about to before he even said anything.

“Uh, not sure? Guess I must have rubbed on something as I looked for Merle, huh?” Despite the transparency of his words and dodgy eyes, it wasn’t like Magnus to lie, and so Davenport didn’t mention anything. Yet. Due to them living in such close quarters, privacy and respect needed to be maintained for peaceful living, and Magnus was a grown man. Though Davenport couldn’t deny that he sometimes felt like a more paternal approach was needed and that he admittedly happily fulfilled, but now wasn’t the time or place.

So he nodded and drank his own tea. 

 

There was a lot going on, Davenport thought while checking over the Starblaster, but he wouldn’t be a captain if he couldn’t multitask. Along with the recent business with Merle putting it upon himself to be the peacekeeper between the Highway and the Forest (which he said he was still going to do, but promised to not traverse too deep into the woods and to make it back before nightfall), and Magnus lying about _something,_ there was also the worry of how worn Barry was acting; in a manner that seemed worse than the exhaustion the other members of their family wore from the eventful last night. And Lucretia too, in a different way - still recovering from the previous cycle, only to be thrown into this mess with her foundations shook as her most important resource turned against her. There was a lot to worry about. He worried about his crew.

It was an uncomfortable feeling that echoed his Fear from the aforementioned books. Like there was something more going on, that he hadn’t comprehended yet. It was just unnerving. Maybe it was just a feature of this plane, being constantly on edge. He sighed, patting a lever in the Starblaster cockpit, the familiar groves giving him some piece of comfort.

There was even more to worry about too - such as the Starblaster, and why, upon entering this planar system, the bond engine output wasn’t enough to carry them at optimal usage. Even when they were doing the test flights so long ago, with most of them only a little better than acquaintances, they were still just about able to power the Starblaster without shutting down systems such as surveillance, autopilot, and unimportant processes which Davenport had been forced to stop yesterday night, manually flying and waiting to make sure the incident wouldn’t happen again. Thinking back on it, he wondered why he didn’t choose anyone with strong existing bonds for the team when he was given the crewmate proposals; for both energy security reasons and research potential, it would have been a good idea. Nerves fluttered in his stomach until he put it aside. It was decades too late to regret that now.

He finished checking over the cockpit - everything was in as good as a shape as it could be, and any flaws were a mere irritation that Davenport considered as part of the ship's character, rather than a danger. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t due to any fault up here. It wasn’t any fault of his, though a slight weight on his shoulders argued opposingly. He was the captain, and he knew how close the ship was to falling then - so many years, down the drain - he was here to prevent such catastrophes. And it wouldn’t just mean the death of his crew, his family - it would be this planet, this planar system, and so many others to suffer the consequences. It was a harrowing thought, but one he was used to compartmentalising. He went downstairs to the lab. 

The rooms primary usage was as a laboratory, hence its name, but it had a large variety of uses. Stepping into down onto the tiled floor, it was easy to see the arguably most important use of the space - a home for their voidfish, lighting up the usually white themed lab in an amalgam of galaxy themed colours, their own personal aurora borealis. At his entrance, Fisher sent a few playful notes at Davenport, and the gnome smiled with a gentle rise and wave of his tail. He noticed the young alien appeared to be growing larger, and wondered when they would reach adulthood.

“S-say,” he started, directing his voice towards the human on the other side of the room - Barry startled, jumping away from his focus on the analysing computer embedded in the wall - “I didn’t ever ask you to figure out how Fisher doesn’t get reset every year, did I?”

“Oh uh,” Barry frowned slightly, “yeah? We did? We researched it together?”

“What?”

“What?” They looked at each other in confusion, and Davenport could feel a headache coming on. And perhaps it was the proximity to those damn books, lying on the various tables and inside some machines, but there was an unsettling atmosphere that felt like it was creeping into the Captain’s skin. 

“Well, it was a long time ago, I, I must have forgotten.” Davenport relented. Barry smiled, lopsidedly, and turned back to his previous activity.

“Happens to us all,” he muttered, “you doing okay, Cap?” Davenport hummed, as a positive, looking over the man in front of him. 

“And are you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean,” he heaves out a large sigh, pulling out the book, “I’ve figured out a few things. Whatever this is? It’s wildly complex - for one, it pulls on three schools of magic, enchantment, illusion and abjuration. They're so entangled though, our tech won't _work,_ I’ve had to take a hands-on approach into figuring out what they are even doing - I’ve got a long way to go before I will be able to even _theorise_ a way to create a counterspell. We knew already, but this goes beyond the average magic user's abilities.” He sits down in a tired sprawling manner at a table with a sigh, putting the book onto a small pile growing there already. Davenport sits opposite him, his low down position awkward with his height, but he was unashamed as he looked at one of the four people closest to his heart. “It would be easier with another person, but, I think from how much I’ve learnt so far, that the Hunger has nothing to do with this. It’s too tied onto this systems plane of magic, little instances that appear rely on the unique aspects, the fingerprint of this system. But you know. I can’t be certain.”

“Lucretia couldn’t help you?” Davenport tilted his head, disquieted.

“No, no, this is already way out of my area of speciality. And anyway I, I wouldn’t be comfortable bringing her into this.” They all loved each other, but Davenport considered Barry to be one of the most obvious in presenting that fact - overly conscientious, the most loving in every action he takes. The exhaustion lay heavily under his eyes and in the slope of his shoulders, and he didn’t want to bring Lucy into that. Davenport agreed. But he wasn’t happy with how Barry was so clearly troubled.

“You should take a break. A-and, you didn’t answer, are _you_ okay?” The human fiddled with his hands as he was wont to do when considering his options and addressing his nerves, before looking up to Davenport.

“Yeah, I’m coping. But- I’ll take a break. The brunt of the Fear goes away slowly, sort of, but then it just sort of, infects you.” He explains. “I uh, yeah. I need a break.”

“Go take one, Barry, at least a few hours. This will still be here when you get back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, mostly to himself, as he picked himself up and made way to the door. “Thanks, Dav.”

“No problem.” And off he went upstairs, and Davenport took a moment in the resulting silence to recollect and remember his original purpose; to check on the Starblasters computers and engine on the left side of the room, towards the back of the ship. 

When he logged in - the security precautions admittedly unnecessary because everyone knew everyone's password for everything by the end of the first decade - Davenport immediately saw something of concern. The middle of the screen was occupied by an image of the bond engine and various analytics and controls around it. He could see the required output units of energy were drastically lower as he had expected, as this was what he had asked Barry to do to smooth their flight - telling the Starblaster to ignore any unnecessary protocols that would suck up energy, and divert what they had to purely power their flight and life support. What was concerning was the similar drop of input units - though this too was what he had theorised, he hadn’t expected it to be quite so low. He entered a few commands on the keyboard after hopping up onto the chair (luckily gnome size, for him personally). 

It brought up further analysis - categories of bonds and their energy input. The highest was, like always, The Crew. Distance mattered for the bond strength of the ship, much like thralls or other powered spells, - otherwise, the second highest category ‘Prime Material Plane’ would be first, because as much as the crew was a close family they couldn’t compete with thousands of bonds from over the planet. But as it was, it did matter, and the crew took first place for their bonds. Despite this, it was still obvious it was the Crew which had suffered the rapid drop in energy output, being under a third than Davenport remembered it being a year ago. He entered another command to bring up the analysis for it.

He first saw the red error signs next to many of the details, then he glanced over the numbers. Then he glanced over again.

Davenport was more practised in engineering and leadership than programming, but he remembered back on their home planet their technology expert going through information for that incredibly rare - _“don't even worry about it!”_ \- possibility of the crew being stranded on their own. The Light of Creation was an abscess of the energy tied to every strand of reality that they had never recognised before, and through it, they discovered another form of energy, tied to _almost_ every strand of reality: bonds. The science of these bonds was complicated and complex, echoing patterns, random splits, convoluted pathways around the world in a sequence hard to identify. But they managed to decode most of it, eventually, and the expert had emphasized the unusual importance of math in bond comprehension. 

He recalled the person's words - for some reason he couldn’t recall their face, other than slim, perhaps human, and vaguely unnerving - and he suddenly realised something. He was suddenly realising a lot of things, such as a few nights ago when he realised they had barely used the storage room next to Barry’s bedroom (he couldn’t remember ever using it at all, in fact), and he had suddenly realised that, upon snacking on the food granted to him by the friendly dragonborn Director Nalia, that he really should have hired someone with chef skills or installed something similar into the ship. So here he was again, suddenly confronting a strangely unknown truth in a time where so many things were still shrouded in mystery.

**CREW COUNT ERROR.**

The ship was made to be powered by six people. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill probably fit this in a later chap, but just clarifying: Input energy, is the bond energy from the fam and etc that goes into powering the bond engine. Output energy, is the energy produced from the bond engine that powers the ship. bond energy from ipre -) input -) bond engine -) output -) energy into ship.
> 
> ive actually calculated a lot of maths for the bond engine (and why any less than 6 ppl kills the ship) because im a secret nerd. i might fit it into a later chap, but only a little bit unless you guys wanna see me go into detail?
> 
> also i spent an hour learning about skins for that one red sentence. hope you appreciate it. i've now caught up with everything ive written so, hopefully will see yall next sunday??? if not, itll be the sunday after.


End file.
